


Hear Me Calling

by DarkMidniteMage



Category: Subarashiki Kono Sekai | The World Ends With You
Genre: A lot of self harm is referenced here, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Autistic Josh and Neku, Childhood Trauma, Depression, Gen, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-08-01 16:35:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16288070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkMidniteMage/pseuds/DarkMidniteMage
Summary: Being trapped in your own mind hurts.





	1. Tired Eyes

Neku hasn’t moved an inch all day. 

 

Curled tightly around his pillow, holding onto it for support, he tries to hold back the salty droplets trying to slip out. He feels wetness sliding down his skin, and he scrubs furiously at his eyes. Why is he even crying?! He’s long gone. He’s not coming back. He doesn’t even know why he still feels this way, why it’s clawing at him like he still remembers, like he still remembers seeing him lowered into the ground, like he still remembers finding th-

 

Neku winces as the static grows again. He pulls his thoughts away, turning onto his side to dispel the distorted noise. He catches a glimpse of his hands as he does, grimacing when he sees the torn skin from days before. No matter how many times he tried to stop, his hands would always act on their own. Each new scratch, each new red mark in his skin… they only remind him of what time of year it is. He reaches for the table beside his bed, picking up the black gloves he keeps on whenever he leaves his room. Slipping them over his hands and pushing his fingers into their assigned places, he hisses when the left glove leaves a scar burning. Shaking his hand a bit to ease the pain, he wraps his arms around the pillow again quietly. 

 

Neku hasn’t spoken in days, his mind too jumbled and his throat too tight from trying not to let his emotions win to trust it. Curling his hands inward, he feels his nails dig into his palm through his glove as the tears rise again. He wasn’t strong enough to save them. How can he expect to be strong enough to do anything about himself? He’d thought he’d changed from the Game, thought he’d become a better person, but he never did. He isn’t capable of change. He never will b-

 

“Neku?”

 

Koharu knows better than to reach out and touch her son, knows better than to comfort him as she used to. He had grown intolerant to being touched, wanting space when he’d crash like this. She sits at the end of the bed, her eyes sweeping over Neku’s body as she wonders what had brought this about. He’s quiet, no noises but soft breathing. She can see small dark spots on the pillow he clutches tightly, and his eyes are glistening. She doesn’t reach for the light, only reaches for Neku’s headphones and carefully slips them over his ears. She’s careful that the volume isn’t too high as she turns on his MP3 player, turning on a song she knows he’s particularly drawn to. Neku visibly relaxes when it begins to play, exhaling softly. He closes his eyes, but Koharu knows he isn’t asleep. His gloved hands tap lightly along to the beat of the music, and she hears him faintly mouthing the lyrics. His breathing calms, and the dark spots in the fabric of his pillow begin to dry and fade away. Koharu sits at the end of his bed again, waiting for the storm that’s raging inside Neku to calm.

 

The song ends after a few minutes, Neku’s eyes opening again. They’re free of tears, and Koharu watches him for a moment. Neku sits up after a brief silence, slipping his headphones around his neck. His gaze is averted, his knees drawn up to his chest while he searches for words. His mother speaks first, a quiet question reaching his ears.

 

“Do you need to talk…?”

 

Neku thinks for a moment, his chest clenching a bit as he nods. Koharu is quiet for a moment, patient to give him as much time as he needs to release the words caught in his throat.

 

“I-I…” Neku takes a quiet breath before trying again. His voice is hoarse and scratchy. “I don’t know what t-to do anymore…”

 

Koharu waits, knowing Neku isn’t finished speaking. She’s seen him like this before, gathering his thoughts in preparation of pulling his words forwards into an understandable message.

 

“Every time at this part of the year, it just always feels like something’s missing. There’s… Static, just a lot of static, that’s at the back of my brain. Whatever or whoever I’m missing, they just… aren’t in my memories. I can’t remember them, as if they never existed. I… I just feel like something happened to them, and it was my fault, a-and-”

 

Neku breaks off, having to take a deep breath and separate his hands. He came close to scratching at himself again, despite the gloves. He doesn’t want his mother to know that he’s doing that. She doesn’t deserve to have a child like him, one that scratches their hands until they bleed, one that’s as selfish as he is. He can’t count how many times he’s pushed her away at this point, how many times he’d hurt her with his words. That she was even here listening… Neku didn’t understand at all.

 

“...I did something to them. I don’t know what I did, but it’s my fault that they’re gone. Every time I try to think about it, all I get is flashes of blonde hair and unbearable pain from it…”

 

Neku doesn’t know what to say anymore. He looks up into his mother’s eyes, waiting for input from her. She lifts her arms, stretching them out. Neku understands, and he leans against her. Koharu wraps him in an embrace, brushing her fingers across his back soothingly.

 

“Do you know anyone with blonde hair…?”

 

Koharu doesn’t know why, but she hears Neku’s breath hitch. For a moment, she wonders if she’s said something wrong, but his breathing resumes normally after a moment.

 

“...I… I do know one person…”

 

The memories are trying to surface, digging into his thoughts. The week of hell, the memories, the Reapers, the Players, the Noise...

 

...The gun.

 

Neku pushes that from his mind.

 

“…Joshua… He’s…” Neku takes a deep breath. “…He’s a… a friend.”


	2. A Promise Broken

_“You’ve broken a number of the rules you’ve been issued as the Composer of Shibuya’s Underground. What do you have to say for your actions, Yoshiya Kiryu?”_

 

Joshua doesn’t respond to the Higher Council’s words. He has nothing to say for his actions, nothing he _can_ say for it. He’s at fault for everything that occurred over those three weeks, all that happened to Neku exactly four years ago today, all that happened to Neku three months ago. There’s white noise crackling at the back of his skull, and Joshua knows if he speaks it’ll break loose. He doesn’t want that. He turns his head downwards, avoiding the harsh glare of the Council above him. The static grows, digging its claws into him and trying to take over. Tears prick at his eyes, but he refuses to let them fall.

 

Seeing no response being given, the head of the Council instead turns to Sanae Hanekoma.

 

 _“As the other refuses to speak, we turn now to you,”_ The Council leader speaks in an almost salt laced tone, one that Joshua doesn’t like. _“Sanae Hanekoma, you stand accused of-”_

 

The voice stops abruptly. Joshua hears a small whisper, but the words don’t connect. The room is silent, nothing but the faint crackle of static. He feels dizzy, and his cheek is pressed against something cold and white. Black and white dance, a cacophony of burning and pulsing and screaming noise that won’t leave and is trying to tear him apart. It hurts and he feels like screaming, but he

 

**-**

 

_“Every time at this part of the year, it just always feels like something’s missing.”_

 

Joshua doesn’t know what he’s hearing. It’s just… dark and colorless. He recognizes the voice, but he can’t put it to a face.

 

_“There’s… Static, just a lot of static, that’s at the back of my brain. Whatever or whoever I’m missing, they just… aren’t in my memories. I can’t remember them, as if they never existed.”_

 

Neku. That’s Neku. Okay.

 

....Why is he hearing Neku?

 

_“I… I just feel like something happened to them, and it was my fault, a-and-”_

 

The static chomps down on Joshua’s skull again. He feels like screaming, but he doesn’t feel like he has a body. Words shove the crackling back, a broom beating away a rabid animal.

 

_“...I did something to them. I don’t know what I did, but it’s my fault that they’re gone. Every time I try to think about it, all I get is flashes of blonde hair and unbearable pain from it.”_

 

_“Do you know anyone with blonde hair…?”_

 

Joshua doesn’t know this voice, but it’s feminine sounding. He wonders if it’s someone Neku knows for a moment before he realizes that he feels something wet slipping down his skin. He doesn’t have a body, but he can still feel it.

 

 _“...I… “_ Neku’s voice breaks a bit. _“I do know one person.”_

 

Joshua isn’t sure what Neku means. Perhaps if his head were less ridiculously crammed with static, he’d have registered that it was him, even before it was spoken aloud.

 

_“...He’s a… a friend.”_

 

If it were possible, Joshua was sure his heart would have skipped a beat. Was Neku avoiding telling his conversation partner what Joshua really was, or… Or was he serious? Even after everything Joshua had done, shooting him just because he wanted to collapse the UG and Erase himself in the process? Shooting him because he had hoped that Neku would shoot him and become Composer in his place? Joshua hadn’t even apologized, hadn’t even said that he was sorry to him for having _literally killed him_. For the sake of Neku and for the sake of the orangette’s protection, Joshua hoped that he didn’t really consider him as a friend.

 

 _“The way you said that, it’s almost as if he hurt you in some way,”_ The female comments.

 

 _“Mom, it’s not…”_ Neku trails off, as if something’s holding back his words. “ _Mom, he’s the reason I changed, but… It wasn’t under good terms that we lost contact.”_

 

Joshua noted that the feminine voice was Neku’s mother, keeping it in mind. He doesn’t know why he feels as though he’s eavesdropping on a conversation, but for all he knows this could just be a dream. Something tells him this probably isn’t, though.

 

_“Did you two have a fight…?”_

 

Neku’s mother doesn’t even know how much that turns Joshua’s blood to ice, the way it churns in his mind and tears at him.

 

 _“It…”_ Neku laughs, but it’s a bit misplaced. “ _It was more of a duel, really.”_

 

Ha ha, Neku. Very funny.

 

 _“It was months ago, but I never had a chance to tell him how I really feel. I know it seems stupid, but he acted like I- no,_ exactly _like I did three months ago. Closed off, as if he was afraid to let anyone in.”_

 

Joshua doesn’t want to admit it, but Neku’s half right. He’s terrified to let anyone in because he doesn’t want them to hurt him too, but he’s also scared that he’ll hurt _them_ . He can’t count how many times he’s done it, how many times he’s misinterpreted a situation and broken someone’s trust or made them hate him. He doesn’t want to go through that again, or put anyone _else_ through it.

 

 _“I never…”_ Neku pauses, searching for words. Joshua hears a small whimper, notices the small crack in his voice when he speaks again. _“I n-never got to tell him that I forgive h-him for-”_

 

The damn static is back. Joshua can’t hear what Neku says next as he’s yanked into unforgivingly painful crackling and twisting claws that scratch into him.

 

**“Josh?”**

 

**-**

 

He’s not against cold tile anymore. The static’s receding, nothing more than a fading, pain filled memory when he opens his eyes. He’s disoriented, mind a mess when he tries to make sense of everything he just heard. It’s too bright in this room, but at least he knows he’s still in the same judgement room he… Actually, what _did_ just happen to him? All he remembers is the static and those… those feelings.

 

_“Yoshiya Kiryu?”_

 

For a moment, Joshua contemplates pretending he’s still not awake, but no, no, they already know he is. Mr. H pokes at his mind, a gentle prod that makes him look up. He hums, a non-vocal question of _what?_ being asked.

 

“You still with us, J?”

 

Sanae says this in a joking tone, but Joshua’s been around him too long to know that it’s hiding worry. He nods, not sure how to feel in this situation.

 

_“We will reschedule this trial for a later date. Please return to your territory.”_

 

Those authoritative words are met with no argument. Hanekoma only pulls Joshua down into Shibuya again with a small nod, then lifts him once they’re back in the Dead God’s Pad. Joshua is too confused to protest when Sanae warps away and the two end up wrapped in familiar scents of coffee and pastries. Joshua closes his eyes again, only listening to the sound of Hanekoma’s footsteps tapping against linoleum. It grows quiet after a while, and Joshua feels himself get set down. He opens his eyes quietly, looking up at Sanae as he wordlessly tosses a question in his direction.

 

_What happened?_

 

Sanae doesn’t give a reply to the Imprint.

 

“Just rest, kiddo. You even gave the Higher Planes a scare back there, and that’s saying something.”

 

 _But what_ **_happened_ ** _?_

 

Sanae sighs quietly, removing Joshua’s shoes and socks. He places them at the end of his bed before pulling the comforter over Joshua and tucking him in. It’s not until Mr. H moves towards the door and reaches for the light switch that he gives an answer.

 

“I’m not sure, J. I’m not sure.”

 

Sanae flicks off the light and closes the door behind him.


	3. An Empire Falling

_ “ _ **_Yoshimi Kiryu, you better open this damn door in three seconds before I kick it down!_ ** _ ” _

 

_ Yoshiya’s lips curl down at the use of his real name. Tears prick at his eyes as he presses more furniture up against his door. The window, long since open, was his only way out. His palms are torn up, nothing but fear keeping him going as he drops his bookbag into the bushes below before pushing himself up and dragging himself outside. It’s cold, the wintry air causing him to shiver a bit as he lifts his bag from the garden shrub and slips it over his shoulders.  _

 

_ Adrenaline finally kicking in, he sprints for the main street. His parents haven’t seen him yet, haven’t seen the way he’s cut his hair irreversibly, haven’t seen the way he’s wearing a binder honestly too tight to avoid having others realize who he is. The escape plan is faulty, holes everywhere and millions of ways this could go wrong, but he, Yoshiya “Joshua” Kiryu, isn’t going to stay and suffer anymore. He’s done with that. _

 

_ He’s already worked most of it out. He’d been saving allowance for the longest time, enough to sustain himself for a while until he could find somewhere he could work. He had everything he had bought himself, the clothes he needed, the things he needed to keep himself from dying right then and there. The cold is biting at his lungs, and it’s honestly more than a bit painful. Joshua doesn’t stop, though. He keeps going, keeps running until he knows he’s out of his parents’ range. Only then does he drop to a walk, and by that time he knows he’s near Hachiko and the 104 building. Approaching Hachiko, he’s not surprised to see the area empty. It’s cold out, and not many would be all too willing to head out in such chilly weather. He drops onto one of the benches, trying to catch his breath. _

 

_ He coughs a bit, and he immediately freezes. _

 

_ Nope.  _

 

_ Nope, not happening. _

 

_ Everything else had gone off without a hitch, so why now, of all times?! _

 

_ Joshua feels like he’s choking on air. The cold burns, making it no better when he’s gasping and coughing. Out of the million ways he’d thought of that this all could fail, he hadn’t even taken his asthma into account. He’s trying to think, trying to focus on  _ **_not dying_ ** _ , but it’s difficult and  _ this is it, this is how it all ends _. His attempt at escaping his horrid family is going to end with him and an asthma attack, lying dead in the middle of winter and completely alo- _

 

_ “Hey, can you hear me?!” _

 

_ It’s a panicked voice, but he’s being held up straight even when he starts curling in on himself again. Joshua can’t respond verbally past his gasps and coughs. He manages to nod. _

 

_ “Do you have asthma?” _

 

_ Another nod between gasps. Joshua’s a fish out of water right now, drowning on air with almost no chance of stopping. Everything’s getting dark, and he knows this plan is going wrong, horribly, horribly wrong. He can’t see after a moment, and a few seconds later his body’s given up. _

 

_ The scene cuts out, and he’s suddenly in a quiet room. It smells like coffee everywhere in this building, and he really doesn’t know how to feel about it. It’s… calming and familiar,  in a way. _

 

_ His memories trail back to what just happened an hour ago. _

 

_ His eyes sting. _

 

_ He couldn’t even run away right. He’s pathetic.  _

 

_ When he sits up, he doesn’t even have time to take in his surroundings before his nails begin to tear him apart. His skin doesn’t even sting when he tears back the top layers, his nerves not even burning when he begins to bleed. It’s not until his gaze focuses on them that he hisses. They feel like they were just torn through barbed wire. _

 

-

 

When Joshua wakes, the burning sensation is still there. He grimaces, waiting for the dream memories of pain to fade. 

 

...They don’t.

 

He looks down at his hands.

 

“ _ Fuck. _ ”

 

His hands are raw and red, his fingernails dyed from his own blood. Joshua sits up, and he’s quiet and unmoving beneath his blanket. If Sanae learned that he’d done this, then he wouldn’t be left alone. If Joshua were to avoid him, then he’d go out of his way to figure out what was wrong.  

 

A few more small curses leave Joshua’s lips when he slips from his bed. He doesn’t feel like alerting his adoptive father to this, instead heading to his bathroom to clean them. Flicking on the light, he closes the door behind him and locks it. He’s not going to risk having Sanae walk in on this.

 

Joshua approaches the bathroom sink, turning the water on and letting it run to warm it up. He’s tired of the nightmares, tired of having others worry about him. He’s tired of dragging people through hell with him, tired of making them  _ care _ about him. He’s not meant to have anyone know he exists. He’s only supposed to be a face in a crowd, a face no one can put to a name or a personality. A blank slate for them to assume what they will of. 

 

He doesn’t even feel it when the water’s too hot, doesn’t feel the way it burns his hands. He sees the rivulets of scarlet running down his fingertips, colliding with the pristine white sink and flowing down into the drain. He imagines the blood is no more than his own mistakes, and he scratches his nails over the wounds. More red stains the water below, a thick torrent of red. 

 

His wrists, his neck, his arms, his torso. Everything is suddenly a target, a way to  _ get it out _ . He tears his skin apart. Blood spills. A small smile curls into shape, a giggle following.

 

His fault. His fault. His fault. He hurt Neku. He hurt Sanae. He hurt his city. He Erased Megumi. He Erased the old Composer. He Erased the old Conductor. He’s a monster. He’s killed. He’s cheated. He’s tortured. He’s…

 

Joshua blinks.

 

_ Fuck  _ **_fuck fUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK-_ **

 

His body burns. He sees the blood coating his hands, sees the metal glinting in his right hand that cuts into his palm. Red seeps from his forearms, from his wrists where he cut the vein and from the bleeding red lines that just bleed more and more and his other arm is even worse and his hands are still bleeding and

 

**-**

 

Sanae knows something is wrong before he even sets foot in Joshua’s room.

 

It’s quiet, too quiet. His eyes sweep over the room, looking for any trace of the teen. 

 

His eyes halt on a small droplet on the floor. He approaches it, and his mind freezes. He hears water running in the bathroom, but he knows it’s the sink.

 

… o h .

 

Something heavy falls against tiled floor.

 

Sanae sees something trickle beneath the door.

 

...It’s blood.

 

He doesn’t hesitate. Without knocking on the door, he presses his hand against the knob. It’s locked, but not for long when he sends a jolt of energy through it. The door unlocks, and Sanae shoves it open. He doesn't care about the blood on his shoes when he sees red dyed hair splayed across tile.


	4. Hear Me Calling

Neku doesn’t know what’s happening. 

 

One minute, he’s walking from his apartment behind his friends, and the next he’s falling face first down a flight of stairs.

 

It hurts, but not as much as the emotional turmoil that’s suddenly building. His hands feel a million times worse, and his eyes are stinging with tears, but they’re not from the physical pain. He pushes himself up from the ground with too much effort, coughing a bit. His lungs feel constricted, and standing up just brings back the same dizziness that sent him down the stairs in the first place. It feels like he’s been shot again, that same feeling that came with blood loss dragging him under. He can hear indistinct voices, scratchy and distorted past recognition. He can’t see anything, and his vision is blurred and shifting and he feels something holding him up but he can’t tell what it is and he’s falling again and

 

**-**

 

It’s dark. 

 

Cerulean irises appear to a void. He feels nothing solid beneath his feet, and Neku’s eyes trail downward. A thin outline of white glows around the edge of his body, a faint view of the world that he can barely see. He’s moving, shifting, and his shoes tap against something hollow. It’s as if the ground opened up. Everything’s shaking and twisting, light exploding from the ground. Screens all around him, flickering on into static, and it’s loud and he can’t bear the noise and he almost covers his ears, but then a hand extends out to him. He can’t see it, can only feel it, but he reaches for it. The static stops. Neku doesn’t know when he closed his eyes, doesn’t know why this hand is familiar. His eyes open again, and he blinks.

 

He doesn’t know what to feel.

 

Emotions stir, and he knows he’s crying, but he can’t stop them from spilling down. 

 

Standing at the edge of a building, perched on the roof with wings against his back, is the one person he thought he’d never see again.

 

“J...Josh...?”

 

The blonde hears him, Neku knows he does, but he’s quiet and unresponsive. Neku takes a step forwards, then another and another and then suddenly he’s running and he sees Joshua step closer to the edge. He moves faster and grips Joshua’s wrist and pulls him back, and feathers collide with his skin when he holds Joshua close. Joshua is a bit shaky, and he can see why. There’s scars covering his arms, his hands, everywhere Neku can see. Neku can’t stop himself from pulling Joshua as far away from the ledge as possible, and he wishes there were a barrier between the ledge and his friend. He’s confused when a fence appears, metal woven edges throughout.

 

It’s completely silent when Neku sits Joshua against the fence, sitting in front of him and fixing the feathers of his Partner’s wings. A small noise cuts through the silence, a quiet word.

 

“...Neku?”

 

The orangette looks up into unsure violet eyes, eyes clouded over with confusion and… fear? Neku’s cautious when he moves to Joshua’s side, being careful not to pin his wings between his back and the fence.

 

“I’m here, Josh.”

 

Neku would have written this off for a dream, but he can’t. Not when Joshua’s right here, not when this is the closest he’s ever seen to the  _ real Joshua _ . He knows this isn’t a dream, the vivid feelings and complete control all that keeps him rooted here. He can hear a shaky inhale beside him, and he pulls Joshua closer and begins skimming his fingers through his hair quietly. Neku isn’t sure what drove him to acting like this, but it feels natural. It’s as if he’d done this before, almost like he’s done this in the past.

 

He isn’t used to this Joshua, this quiet and unsteady Joshua who’s torn apart. Neku lets his body move on its own, lets it operate on instinct. Something is calling out to him, something beckoning to him.  _ Help him _ , it calls. 

 

**-+-**

 

Neku listens. He bridges the gap between he and Joshua’s minds, looking for a break through the wall. He circles the defenses again, and there it is. What seemed like a small crack from far away was really a gaping hole, torn through and collapsed into nothing but dust. Past it, there’s only rubble and scattered papers, fire and smoke that burns up a collapsing and blackened home. Neku steps through. In the middle of it all, holding a gun, is someone Neku knows, but doesn’t. 

 

They’re too small to be Joshua, but Neku knows it’s him. Ashy blonde hair, singed from the flames, flows down the figure’s back in a cascade. The gun in his hands reflects the flames back, the red light dancing like the flames that keep getting closer and closer. 

 

Neku knows what to do.

 

He steps over the crumbled walls, the rubble, a picture frame with two faces torn away. He’s unafraid as he steps through the flames, isn’t burned when he passes through them. Neku can see everything, every scar, every memory, every fear that terrifies Joshua. 

 

Neku drops to his knees. Resolve comes to the surface, bubbles out, and he holds him close. This fragile child, this little Joshua, is torn apart. Dolls litter the floor in front of him, hair ties and dresses and ribbons and lacy, frilly clothes. 

 

_ “Your past isn’t your future, Joshua.” _

 

The small child shakes.

 

_ “This isn’t you. You aren’t your past.” _

 

Wet droplets trail through the ash.

 

_ “They aren’t you, and you aren’t them. You aren’t the same person you were, and you never will be. You’re you.” _

 

The child shifts in Neku’s arms, becoming taller. 

 

_ “You don’t need to be anything for anyone. You being you is enough. The past happened, and I know it hurts, but you can’t let it define you. Your life is only what you make it.” _

 

The fragile child of before is gone. Joshua sits in their place, a torrent of salty tears falling like rain in a hurricane. Neku’s hands lift, gently brushing tears from his Partner’s eyes.

 

Three words, quietly whispered, are all that Neku says.

 

_ “Come back, Joshua.” _

 

Joshua does.

 

**-+-**

 

When Neku’s eyes open again, feathers are wrapped tightly around him. He can feel liquid soaking through his shirt, sees a wet spot on Joshua’s shirt too, and he knows that both of them have been crying. Neither of them speak, not even when violet meets cerulean. Neku doesn’t know how long Joshua has been suffering, but… He doesn’t want him to anymore.

 

Neku pulls Joshua closer, and there they rest.


	5. All That I Know

She swirls around her Composer and Conductor, and She can feel it. They’re hurt, may not recover, and it **_scares_** Her.

She tries Her best to hold them together, but She knows that they’re the only ones who can fix each other. They have to find each other, meet through their connections, and be drawn back. Even as She worries, Shibuya can sense small cracks in their Souls healing over. They’re still there, still breathing. Her Producer panics, trying to help Yoshiya. Shibuya moves protectively around him, telling him in Her own way that he’s going to be fine. She can feel Her people fearful, worried, and it doesn’t help. Her People huddle together, fear digging into their Souls. They don’t know what’s happening, but they feel the same unease that She does.

 

**~+~**

 

Neku smooths Joshua’s hair. Neither have spoken up or broken the silence. Neku wants to speak, but his voice won’t claw its way to the surface. He frowns. Not again…

Josh turns his head, and Neku feels a small push against his headspace. He hears a small few words, an Imprint.

 **_(_ ** _I’m sorry.)_

Neku forms words in his head, prepared to speak…

But no, he still can’t. He pulls the message forwards, pushing it at Josh like he did with Imprinting during the Game. He knows Joshua gets it when he sees a small spark of… something, in his eyes.

_(You didn’t do anything wrong to me. You should be apologizing to yourself.)_

_(But I hurt you too, Neku. It’s_ **_my fault_ ** _you’re here!)_

The thought had previously crossed his mind. With Joshua in this state, it’s the only thing his mind could think of. Something to do with their old pact, maybe?

 _(Even if that was because of something you did, I don’t blame you for anything,)_ Neku Imprints back. _‘(f it hadn’t been you, it would have been me dragging you here.)_

Joshua buries his head into Neku’s chest at that.

_(No. Not allowed.)_

The way Joshua speaks is familiar. From the way Josh is positioned, he can see the scars clearly, tangled vines against a crumbling wall. He knows they weren’t there before, weren’t there three months ago. He reaches to place his hand over one of them-

Joshua pulls away quickly, hissing in pain. Neku looks him over, trying to make sure he didn’t actually hurt Josh or make him bleed, but there’s nothing there. He didn’t actually _touch_ Joshua, which means something else hurt him. What would have done that, Neku isn’t sure. They’re the only two here.

_(Josh?)_

Violet eyes meet his for a moment. They dart away quickly.

Neku reaches for his hand, pulling him back before he can try to run away. He examines the marks closely, and he’s suddenly aware that there’s the phantom of bandages over them.

His mind freezes. His body acts on its own.

Joshua’s eyes flick over his arms in fear. What’s Neku doing?! He can’t help. Nothing can-

The lines reverse, a graphite line under an eraser. Neku regains control, but he doesn’t stop. He can help Josh! He can help him, and he can try to make Joshua feel better.

His hands move over Joshua’s arms, fluid motions bringing away the scars built up. He doesn’t realize there are new emotions etched into his Soul, doesn’t see the way tears fill Joshua’s eyes until his hand stops and he looks up. Neku’s eyes are clouded with tears of his own, but he doesn’t blink them away. They fall without prompt, slipping down. There are waves of emotions burning into him, ones he knows don’t belong to him. He meets violet eyes, gaze held in place until Joshua raises his hands.

[Why?]

Joshua’s hands move shakily. He places them in his lap, steadies them, then tries again.

[Why would you do that…?]

Something sparks in Neku’s head. It doesn’t hurt, but it brings clarity.

 

**~**

 

_He sees a flash of blonde, a small smile, and hands raised and signing out some words as the voice speaks._

_“Come on, Neku! I believe in you!”_

_Neku raises his hands, trying to force himself to sign out some words. He tries to sign ‘nice to meet you’ to Joshua, but Josh has to cover his mouth to keep from laughing._

_“Neku, upright, not sideways. I warned you about trying to sign ‘meet’ like that.”_

_Neku realizes the way his hands were positioned, remembers what it means, and immediately lets out a small noise. “You know what I meant!”_

_“But did I_ **_really_ ** _?”_

_Suggestive eyebrows wiggle, and Neku swats at him. “Do not. Do not suggestive eyebrow at me. No.”_

_Joshua laughs, and Neku can’t help but be pulled into it too._

 

**~**

 

At least he knows how he learned to sign now. More questions rise, but he pushes them back. He needs to reply.

He signs back at Joshua. [Because you’re my friend. I want to help you, I just don’t know how to yet.]

Joshua’s eyes break away from his, aimed at his lap and looking for movements. [You don’t have to. You don’t need to get involved with me again.]

[We’ve been friends for years, haven’t we…?]

Joshua pauses, his face falling. [What?]

[You’re the one who taught me sign language.]

Joshua doesn’t reply. His gaze locks on to the rooftop below them.

Neku remembers that? He remembers… He remembers that they were friends? He’s not supposed to. He’s not supposed to know that they were friends. His memories of their friendship were supposed to be taken away! Joshua’s in a disarray while he tries to think, tries to understand. How does he _know_? He shouldn’t be able to remember anything! Neku shouldn’t…

…But Neku still remembers that he had a friend that had something happen to them.

_He’s not supposed to know at all._

Neku sees the way Joshua seems a bit panicked. He reaches out, gently pulling Joshua towards him. Joshua lets him, and he rests Josh’s head against his lap. He runs his fingers through Joshua’s hair trying to calm him as best as he can. With Joshua right here, it’s all he can do to keep from asking the questions he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to pry, doesn’t want to make Josh upset. He wants to help him get better, to give him the chance that he may not have ever had before. Something tells Neku that Joshua’s had too much happen to him, too much he’s kept in, and Neku doesn’t want him to hold all that back. If it means talking him through issues, that’s fine. If it means he brings Neku here to talk, that’s fine too. Neku just…

He wants Joshua to get better.

Neku adjusts Joshua, pulling him up to his chest. He holds him close, and that’s when he gets his voice back.

“Joshua… Let’s go back. Someone has to be worrying about you.”

Josh seems to take this in. He sighs, nodding.

[Mr. Hanekoma might have found me by now… If he has, he’ll probably be upset.]

Neku sees little bits of the world begin to fade in the background, starting with the fence they’d leaned against before. He turns back to Joshua.

“Joshua, I want you to promise me something.”

Joshua hums in question.

Neku takes a deep breath. “I want you to promise me that you won’t hurt yourself. I’m going to find you when we get back to Shibuya.”

Joshua hesitates. He looks as though he’s about to raise his hands to sign the words, but he only raises one hand. He holds out his pinky to Neku, and the redhead understands. He locks his pinky with Joshua’s. For the first time in a while, he hears Joshua speak. His words mean a lot to him.

_“I promise.”_


End file.
